His Other Half
by scrubso
Summary: A honeymoon one-shot, and a very wet captain.


A/: This is a small vignette that I wrote in response to a fanfic challenge, it is pure fluff so enjoy. The quote about Georg comes from a book written by the real Georg von Trapp, it helped inspire this story.

His Other Half

Georg and I spent our first night as a husband and wife in Vienna. My mind is in such disarray that I do not know if I can ever describe the bliss that was my wedding night. I can only say that it was a dream-the last few weeks have been a dream. As I opened my eyes in the morning after, I had to overcome the feeling of shock when I saw him lying next to me. A thin sheet covered his body as he lay on his stomach; one arm was under his pillow the other draped over me. His arm was limp and heavy as I adjusted myself under it and the very thin blanket that covered me. It would take me a while to get used to sharing so much of my life with a man. That morning was as nice as the night before when Georg guided me through my insecurities and shyness. He was patient, understanding, and very sweet. Everything was so new to me. We spent the morning in Vienna and in the afternoon we boarded a train to Paris where we stayed for the first two weeks of our honeymoon. The third week we visited the palace of Versailles and toured countryside. I saw things I have never seen in my life, things that I never knew existed. I sipped drinks I could not even pronounce, and tasted foods I never imagined I would eat. I went to balls and dances; I went to the opera, and art galleries. I saw everything that France had to offer. My feelings of the last few weeks are impossible to describe. I never knew or believed that I could be loved and be in love with a man, like I am with Georg.

Georg planned on the honeymoon lasting a little over a month. And so on the fourth week we traveled north to Calais, a port city on the coast of France. I have never been to sea, although I have dreamed of one day being able to see it. And spending so much time with Georg over the last few weeks, my interest in visiting the ocean increased. In part due to all the stories Georg had shared with me, and in part to better understand him. I know him of course, and I've learnt so much about his past as a child and officer, but he can still be at times an enigma. I wanted to know everything there is to know about a man who people said, "half his life had died with the Navy. Of the other half most seemed to be buried with Agathe". While I've seen the part of him that is a loving husband, I hope that by understanding the Georg von Trapp who was a seaman and who fought in wars. I would be granted a deeper insight to his whole persona.

We arrive by train to the station Gare de Calais-Fréthun. Calais is a port city situated along the English Channel. I learn from Georg that the area between the Calais and Dover, England is called the Strait of Dover, and it is the narrowest part of the English Channel. Georg hopes to tour the entire area during our stay there, including the Côte d'Opale, an extremely scenic cliff-lined section of coast that parallels the famous White Cliffs of the British coast.

We check into an inn and Georg leaves our suitcases with the bellboy to take to our room. We tour the city a little and stop by a small café to eat lunch. Georg is fidgety throughout the meal and I sense his impatience. One thing I learned about Georg is how he shows his anxiousness with his hands. Years of military training had produced a man who always stands strait with perfect posture, but being a captain, Georg had to learn how to hide his anxieties well. If the captain panics, then the men of the submarine will no doubt panic. So as a captain, Georg can show emotions such anger, but he cannot show fear. He has a habit of wiggling the fingers of his left hand when he is nervous, and he rubs his thumbs against his pointer finger when is thinking hard, he clasp his hands behind his back when he tries to be imposing and authoritative, he taps his fingers when he feels uncomfortable, clenches them when he is angry, and in my opinion his most endearing habit is when he scratches his right ear when he is nervous.

I assume the reason I really know his hands so well, is because it was the first thing that I dared to really look at. I was of course was struck by how handsome he was the first time I met him, even if I really did not understand what I was thinking or even feeling at that time. But his hands were the first things that I fell in love with. I had told Georg that I fell in love with him the "first time he blew that silly whistle" partly because of the wedding band that caught my eye. I saw seven handsome children march and I saw a man, who still wore his wedding band after his wife being gone for close to four years. But when I fell for him and completely for him was when I watched his hands gently stroke the strings of my guitar as he sang Edelweiss. Sometimes I really think I am in dream, when his hands hold mine. The first time I held them I was surprised how rough and firm they were, but years in the navy does that. But I quickly learned how gentle he can be with them and how light his touch could be, and how safe I feel when my hands are in his.

I suggest that we ask the waiter to pack our meal, so that we can enjoy it outside. Georg readily agrees and flashes me an appreciative smile. The truth is, I am happy to be outside. The weather is beautiful today, the sky is blue, the sun is shining, and a slight breeze from the ocean is felt. We bypass the quaint shops we see along the way and Georg inquires about a car to take to the ocean. I can sense his anxiousness. Till now his excitement revolved around anticipating my reaction to new sights and sounds. But I feel that now, there is something that he not only wants to show me, but something he wants to see for himself.

We drive from the city west. The car's roof is down and I am thankful for the hat I am wearing. My eyes travel from the breathtaking view to Georg, who with difficulty is keeping his eyes on the road.

We have not reached the Côte d'Opale yet when Georg stops the car at the side of the road.

"I want to show you something."

Georg takes my hand and leads me down a path that takes us from the road to the beach. After a ten-minute walk we reach it. We don't actually go down to the sand, but rather we walk to a pier that stretches out to the sea. The view is breathtaking. The water is so blue and I can see the sun reflect off its water. Although the pier and beach below are deserted, I can see ships off in the horizon. Hand in hand we continue walking down the pier. It extends out to sea and gives the illusion of actually standing in the ocean.

"How deep is the water darling?"

"The tide is high so the water should be deep", he replies. "We're about ten feet above the current water level. But it often changes depending on the tide."

We stand at the pier admiring the view when a gust of wind blows my hat off and it flings it into the water. Although I am a little disappointed that my hat was lost I try not to show it as I can always get a new one. I continue looking at my hat that is floating in the water, and do not notice that Georg has already removed his tie and jacket, and is in the process of removing his shoes.

"Georg what are you doing?" I ask as his second shoe comes off.

"Georg?" I ask again as he strips off his right sock

"Getting your hat," he finally replies as the second sock is removed.

"How?" I follow his gaze towards the end of the pier and I finally understand his intention, "Are you mad?" I blurt out.

"A little" he says with a very mischievous grin. He doesn't wait for me to respond as he takes off in a run to end of the pier.

Perhaps my ears have betrayed me because I am sure I hear a distinct "wah hoo" escape his mouth as he dives. I run after him to the end of the pier. I look over the edge and see him waving to me from the water. His dark hair is plastered to his head and he has an impish smile on his face.

I watch him as he swims a few yards towards my hat. He retrieves it and begins to swim towards land. I grab his clothing and run down the pier to the beach.

By the time I reach the coast, Georg is standing waist high in the water. I watch a he walks out of the water. For a moment I forget how angry I am as I watch him. His wet clothing clings to his body and accentuates all his features. Beads of water drip from his tousled hair and on his face are a triumphant grin. He seems so relaxed and so at ease, he seems as if the ocean is his territory, his home, and his palace.

He approaches me "your hat my lady" he says with a bow and a flourish.

I should be laughing at the absurdity of the scene. Georg von Trapp drenched in water holding an equally wet hat. I only his friends could see him like this. But instead I am furious with him. Although he is a good swimmer, diving from a high distance seems to me very reckless, especially to fetch a very replaceable hat. This is hardly the man who was once furious when his children and I fell into a lake.

"You could have broken your neck… or hit your head on a rock… or there could have been sharks." I sputter.

"Sharks?" I see him trying to keep his face straight.

"Yes sharks!"

"The are no sharks this close to land."

"That not the point!" I snap. "You could have hurt yourself…why are you laughing?" I ask seething.

"Because you are absolutely adorable when you're angry."

I walk away with a huff. Georg catches me and grabs me by the waist.

"Georg you're all wet," I say as I try to wiggle from his grasp and despite myself I begin to giggle. He plants a wet kiss on my cheek, but I manage to escape his arms before he tries to hug me.

Soon Georg is running after me.

I find it difficult to run as I become out of breath from laughing at the absurdity of the situation. Georg running in soaked clothing like a schoolboy. I continue running, but he is too fast for me. I run close to the water. His arms are inches for mine when I trip and fall on the sand. He lands on top me and we share a hearty laugh before he crushes his lips to mine.

He smells of sea, surf, and sun. He lays on top me and balances his weight on his arms. My arms go around him, I feel his wet body beneath my fingers, and I can taste his salty lips. A low groan escapes his throat.

He kisses me again.

It has never been like this yet. The last few weeks he has been so tender and so gentle. Perhaps he understood how new this experience for me and let me take as much time as I need. But now I plainly see something that has lain hidden beneath the surface. I see the part of Georg that he has always kept in check- his impulsivity, his spontaneity, his suppressed energy, and his passion.

We are so close to the water that I feel a wave wash ashore and drench my stocking and shoes. Georg seems not to notice as he continues to kiss me in a way that is so raw and almost aggressive.

Another wave crashes ashore and this time it is more powerful and covers us completely. I am drenched, and although the water is cold I feel oddly hot. Georg deepens the kiss, as if he is fearful that the sea might try to separate us.

When Georg breaks the kiss, he rises with me in his arms. My eyes never leave his as he carries me into the ocean. I hear the wave smacking against his legs, I feel the water tickling my feet. He carries me deeper and deeper into the sea till I could barley stand. He holds me tight. I am breathless. He has brought me to his home and into his heart.

I now know his other half.


End file.
